Ask This Is Us

[Merian Sere]

Follows Put me in my place and Kill your darlings


Moltok
158 ABY


They’d called the wreck an accident.

Laughable. There were no accidents with Maros, only calculated cover stories. Merian would know. She’d been one long enough.

The simple fact of his presence here told her everything. It made her blood boil. He could have gone anywhere in the whole galaxy, like he’d chosen Botajef before. Forget about her and let her forget about him. But he couldn’t do even that. He had the gall to run back to the Empire. Then play his Sith games like he wanted to draw her out.

Merian marched to his door with weapon in hand. He’d get his wish.

The worst part was how she still hated it had to come to this. How she still wished he’d come back with her last time. They could have been together, really together, and he’d chosen this life over a bed with her. It was a slap in the face. And there was so much to draw from it.

Merian’s arm reached for the door a stone’s throw away and made the metal groan. She maintained her hold, flexed her fingers, pushed harder. Power coursed through her veins. She didn’t even need her lightsaber. By the time she was in reach of it, a final push ripped the sliding door right out of its tracks and sent it crashing inside the diminutive apartment.

“Maros!” she cried inside. “Come finish what you started!”

 

[Merian Sere]

Merian always knew what she’d find here, yet somehow the sight of him still stopped her in her tracks. So this was the home he’d built away from her and everyone. This prefab. She wanted to freeze time, have a look around. She wanted to watch the view through his windows, thumb through his library, see what few pictures he’d kept. Get to know that side of him fully before they had to fight. She didn’t have that luxury.

She stared at him over the lightsabers. Though it was the same face, the same body, it was not the same man from two years ago, the one Merian loved when she still thought he stood for something. She knew better now. Beyond the surface he stood for nothing, he was nothing, an empty shell.

Her eyes went to the cowering woman behind him, then back to him. A scornful exhale. Hurt, like disbelief.

“I didn’t know you could love.”

The phrase stirred something in her. Something violent. There were no more words. She attacked.

 

[Merian Sere]

Merian jerked her head back and the blade missed her throat by an inch, but she was never worried. Her counterattack was swift, a low blow on the opposite side that forced Maros into a great movement to block it just in time, gashing the floor and sending more sparks flying. The blue woman screamed again. Another quick attack, a parry, Merian jumped back. She was so nimble without the armor. This was the Merian Maros knew. In the ISB, this was how she’d fought. He’d have to keep an eye on that knife.

You shouldn’t have come here. Anywhere but the Empire, you arrogant fool.

Merian’s hand shot out. Maros was ready. He moved to protect himself.

He was not the target.

Merian caught the cowering Pantoran by the throat and cut her screaming short. Her pretty eyes bulged. She clasped both hands around her neck. A sickening moan escaped her, a panicked scream that couldn’t get out.

Merian faced Maros, looked him in the eye, and snapped her neck. The blue limbs crumpled in the corner.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said, but there was a smile on her face and in that moment her eyes were more red than brown. “But we can’t have all that screaming alert someone, can we? Hope you weren’t too attached.”

Like lightning, she was on him again.

 

[Merian Sere]

Maros’ indifference to the death caught Merian by surprise. The idea only laid bare her shame when the most profound response was revealed to be her own. Relief.

Except there was something coming from him. As his feint almost collapsed her and his attack pushed her to the brink, Merian felt the surge beyond a doubt. When she pushed back, it grew stronger, like a heart beating the longer the fight went. Pride, the greatest part of it. But there was more. Passion. Awe. Wanting. The eruptions of Mustafar had nothing on this. And then she realized.

Love. For her.

The outrage stopped her in place, her lightsaber half-raised for the next blow. How dared he. Merian was incredulous. She refused. She’d convinced herself their kiss had been a lie. Why else would he have spit on his own chance? Some nights Merian still dreamed of their meeting on Botajef, and in her dreams he followed her back only for morning to tear them apart again. Him lying about it would have been easier to swallow.

“No. If really you loved me we wouldn’t be here.” Her voice was venom and it burned him as much as it did her.

When Merian’s onslaught resumed her attacks had traded technique for unchecked savagery. Her blows forced Maros back all the way through the collapsed wall and she followed him there. She’d left her armor expecting this to get messy; to any witness, this would be a fight between Sith.

Or perhaps that was really what it was.

 

[Merian Sere]

The words struck true where Maros’ saber couldn’t. Beyond true. Mortally. Her own assurance melted before his, like both couldn’t exist at once.

So his love hadn’t been a lie. It hurt. Now Merian wanted to go back. Rewrite all those years like a first draft that would have unfolded completely wrong. If only she hadn’t been so stuck-up and let herself love him. If they’d been years together Merian knew he wouldn’t have left her, split or no split. Instead she’d chosen duty. She’d chosen the Empire and as thanks they’d ripped her from the ISB and sent her to die as a knight. Why couldn’t she leave? Why did she feel like without the Empire she would collapse into nothing?

Merian’s chin trembled, and when she spoke the hate had withdrawn from her voice like the tide.

“I could live another hundred years, my greatest regret will be that I couldn’t be yours both.”

This time she didn’t attack. The heart wasn’t behind it, only the orders. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Both hands pointed the orange blade straight to him, like to keep him at bay.

 

[Merian Sere]

He’d read her perfectly. He pushed her hand aside and she didn’t even attempt to keep him away. His arms were a refuge. His kiss, it made everything right again, that first deep breath after a dive. Merian closed her eyes. She gave in. His hands on either side of her face, like he wanted to lift her up and take her flying. Their first kiss had been a blaze, years of passion needing stated; this was all tenderness. Forgiveness and apology for what they knew they were about to say. A second time.

He promised and she nodded. No, he wouldn’t, she didn’t doubt that. She wouldn’t either. What good it did them.

“If I begged you to come back with me to Raxus, would you?” Defeated. Rhetorical.

 

[Merian Sere]

And there it was. Maros’ special trick, loving her even as he despised everything she stood for. Until today she’d thought it meant the love was feigned. Even now, knowing better, she couldn’t explain it. It made her want to slap some sense into him. He was so close.

“I had masters since Korriban, and I served them all the same,” she said. “Sith Empire or no. Unnatural? Quite possibly. But my Empire took Bastion by storm and sent the Jedi reeling. What have your years of moping accomplished? What have the broken remnants of your Sith Order?”

 

[Merian Sere]

She nodded. Sadness had overtaken her reddish eyes, a queer combination. The worst part was knowing he was right. She’d made the safe choice, the easy choice. Her Empire would last her lifetime if she was lucky. The Sith always survived.

“In a millenium, then,” Merian murmured. Her lightsaber was back at her belt, like giving up. Like tired. She turned around.

“I’ll come find you.”

 

[Merian Sere]

The grip around her wrist, hard like chains. Merian flashed back to last time. Her free hand closed around—not her saber. Her knife.

But his hand firm on her wrist, his voice in her ear, deep and warm like rolling thunder, they gave her chills. One by one her fingers let go of the blade until she let him turn her around. She wanted to be closer still. She wanted him.

“You abandoned me,” she said. Was that not a worse choice? “You knew I—”

Loved you. Needed you. All of it.

She didn’t get the chance to speak again. Footsteps surrounded them. Blasters raised. The burnt maroon uniforms of Imperial Peacekeepers.

“Freeze! Hands where we can see them!”

Of course. Moltok.

Merian’s heart quickened. She hadn’t brought her armor, by design. How could she explain this? Without realizing, she took a step away from Maros. Slowly, reluctantly, her hands went up.

“There’s been a mistake,” she called out. “I have it under control. I’m—”

“Knight Sere. I’ve seen enough.”

The Peacekeeper ranks parted and through came the tallest Imperial Knight Merian had ever seen, himself fully adorned in the crimson armor and matching helmet. The lawmen hadn’t lowered their blasters.

“It isn’t what it looks like. I’m here on duty.”

“So you are. As it turns out, my duty was to keep an eye on you. And I’ve seen enough.”

His lightsaber burst alive, a bright yellow.

“What a disgraceful end to your service, Merian. The most devoted among us. Don’t worry. They’ll give you a chance to explain yourself.”

The man marched forward.

 

[Merian Sere]

The air came troubled, tension like storm clouds between the parties. It was seconds before it came crashing down. Maros, challenge and contempt, ready to kill; Konstantin, armored, proud and unimpressed. Merian, frozen in place. And the Peacekeepers, hesitant pawns, stuck between forces beyond their comprehension.

“Rabid dogs are my specialty, fool,” spat the knight. “Rabid dogs and traitors. Detain her.”

At last finding themselves with a direct order, the Peacekeepers acted, surrounding Merian. Her mind raced. All the possibilities. All terrible. How could she get out of this? To her great shame, she pondered her odds of taking out the Imperials without suffering a fatal shot. Could she go back if there were no witnesses? Would they ever believe the Sith she was sent to kill had beaten all of her, the other knight and a full squad of soldiers?

Unlikely. They already suspected foul play. They had her watched. And she’d so conveniently be the sole survivor.

Blades flashed before her as Konstantin attacked. A blur. Everything was a blur. Not just the fight. Help kill Maros? Unthinkable. Merian’s heart pounded in her chest. As she held out her hands, she knew she was making the biggest mistake of her life. She had the clear feeling that if the stuncuffs closed around her wrists she would never be free again. They would let her explain; they would never listen. Or believe her. Yet in spite of it Merian didn’t move. She needed an option. She saw none.

“Argh!”

The Peacekeepers stopped in place and turned around. Merian watched as Konstantin reeled back. Maros stood unmoving, red blade in hand. There was a molten scar slashed across the knight’s helmet. He removed it, looked at the still Sith with a snarl. Merian felt nothing but pride.

Rabid dogs bite, Konstantin. He warned you.

“What are you waiting for? Take down the Sith!” He tossed his useless helmet to the ground. The Peacekeepers finally opened fire.

Forgotten and uncuffed, Merian joined the fight.

 

[Merian Sere]

Indecision, the worst kind of nightmare. Maros and the Empire locked in a fight to the death before she was ready to make a choice. Merian’s every option was worse than the last, but inaction was somehow the worst of them all. Orange blade drawn, she circled Maros like a predator, not yet committing because the fight was already won. The only question that remained was whether she would do it. Maros knew she would. Konstantin was less sure. His eyes watched her like an enemy. More than suspicion, like his mind was made.

Maros’ too. There was more to them than the soulless gaze from the other knight, the judgement without an ounce of reflection. All the more to hurt her with. Oceans of passion, some regret, but no surprise. Like he knew all along this was the side she’d take.

There was no time for more protest than the moment they’d almost shared. Merian moved and on her mark Konstantin did too. How was she supposed to tell him she didn’t have a choice? Even she found herself pathetic.

Then the buildings collapsed.

“What—”

The two knights managed to jump out of harm’s way. Most Peacekeepers weren’t so lucky. Not to mention the civilians who’d been home inside. All those who’d be found in the rubble. And no trace of Maros.

“Sir—”

“The alley!” Merian shouted. “The mag-train! Move!”

Much faster than Konstantin, she dashed after Maros through what was left of the alley, really a crevice now between the two buildings. Debris littered the ground. Torn wayward beams protruded at just the right height to take Merian’s head off. Behind, the only surviving Peacekeeper hesitated and opted to stay with Konstantin. The massive, armored knight was only getting up.

Merian pressed through the dust, blind but knowing in her gut she’d picked the right direction.

 

[Merian Sere]

Let him run. Let him run all he wanted. He’d never been able to get away from her. To stay away.

Merian came after him. She didn’t weave through the crowd as effortlessly as he did. It didn’t part for her. People looked on, frozen in place, at the man who’d just jumped from the ground to the track overhead. Most called him a trickster; one called him a Jedi. Some stood there to watch, convinced this was the start to some public circus performance. But Merian knew he was trapped. He wasn’t going anywhere until the next train.

When she made the jump in turn, bystanders gasped and then cheered, now absolutely positive they were witnessing the start to some flash mob. Wrong as that was, they were about to get a show.

Merian’s lightsaber erupted in her hand as she advanced down the narrow walkway to Maros. Barely a meter wide, no way but forward and backwards, a destined duel. The rage had returned. They didn’t have much time until Konstantin and the peacekeepers made their way back to them.

“Is this what you’re happy with?” she cried. “Of all the planets in the galaxy, you come here and force my hand? The Empire doesn’t want you, Maros Lasan. If you insist on acting like a lowlife mercenary, I’ll treat you like one. Maybe a stay in imperial jail is what you need to remember what you really want.”

 

[Merian Sere]

“I— You’re hurt,” she only now realized, her first good look at him since he’d crumbled the prefab. Beyond the faint but real concern in her voice, there was this edge, like she resented him for his injury. How could she finish him now? Toss him into a cell?

Her lips pursed. Her saber swished back and forth, empty threats. Merian’s knuckles were white on the bronze hilt. She felt that love again, heady like noxious fumes. She did want him, only scarcely less than she wanted him to see reason. She wanted all of him. Not stolen kisses that would be the death of her. But that wouldn’t happen now.

“On Ord Cantrell,” she spoke, hurriedly. Below them, still some distance away, the giant form of Knight Konstantin parted the crowd with six more Peacekeepers at his back. “Outside Imperial space, not far from here. There’s a resort in De-Purteen, Felicity Hotel, the ISB doesn’t use it. Two weeks after Life Day. Meet me there.”

Then her strike came, telegraphed and lazier than it should be. Maros’ late parry worried her, like the rest of his expression. Would he retain anything she’d said?

“Run!”

Behind her rose a loud rumble that travelled through the track. Maros turned tail and ran, a wobbly run she’d have trouble convincingly not catching up with, but she spotted a wire across the walkway and sent herself sprawling. It may not be enough. Even without her interference, he might not make the jump.

Blaster rifles screeched below as Peacekeepers attempted a few shots, but with the walkway they didn’t have an angle. The rumble was louder and louder. Merian was back on her feet and quickly catching up.

Konstantin jumped.

His landing shook the platform like a meteor shook the earth, heralding death.

“Where is he?”

Merian pointed. She was faster than him in his armor, but the walkway was too narrow for them both and he was so eager to go first. Even him gained ground on Maros easily, Merian in his wake.

“There is no escape for you, Sith,” he growled. His words were swallowed by the track. Only a few seconds left.

The mag-train appeared in view and in just a blink it was next to them, impossibly fast. Only then did Konstantin realize the plan, as Maros ran and made the leap. Merian held her breath. He landed on the roof and zoomed out of sight with the train. Safely, she thought.

She looked to Konstantin, abandoning her combat stance, giving up. But the relief she felt froze as Konstantin motioned to jump after Maros.

“Don’t! It’s too risky!” Pointless words. Inaudible.

The knight barreled down the walkway for momentum, a boulder sent downhill. When it was enough he leapt sideways over the edge, aiming for the final few cars.

She didn’t need much. Just the faintest nudge.

When the mag-train had gone, there wasn’t much left of Knight Konstantin.

---